


See What You Show

by MrsCaulfield



Series: Full Boyfriend Experience [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexuality Spectrum, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28915293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/MrsCaulfield
Summary: This was supposed to be a day of celebration. The first year was a milestone, especially for Crowley, who had never been in a relationship that lasted this long, and Aziraphale, who had never been in a relationship at all.Instead, he was too distracted by the pull of several stares when they entered the restaurant.Crowley, even with his gorgeous red locks currently coated in the colour of snot, still looked dashing enough to be a natural staring magnet.*Oneshot set after the events of Free Trial Boyfriend
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Full Boyfriend Experience [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013088
Comments: 24
Kudos: 176
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	See What You Show

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series. It references a lot of stuff that happened in Free Trial Boyfriend, so if by any chance you haven't read that one yet, I highly recommend you check it out! :)
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Stef (crepesandoysters) for suggesting to me this swim team tradition, thus making Crowley's hair into a cacophony of a bunch of dehydrated christmas trees skskd

Aziraphale was wearing _jeans_.

Black as night and wrinkled slightly around the ankles. Not quite as tight as Crowley's, mind you, but nowhere near any of his usual wardrobe pieces. It was tough to get used to. His tan slacks did a good job of getting him everywhere, and the pull and scratch of denims sticking to every inch of his thighs, shifting with each movement he made, felt mildly uncomfortable. But he was going to brave through this. It was a special day, after all.

The doorbell rang. Aziraphale took one last look in the mirror, spilled a few tufts of his white blond curls between his fingers, and folded his jacket over his arm.

Crowley stood at his doorstep, surprisingly early this time. It was a bit of an effort to take him all in - that dizzying smile and his lanky frame, dressed in his fashionable monochrome look. His hair had been cropped back short, with strands sticking out at some odd angles. Dark red roots fading into light green tips. He shifted on his feet, grinning wide.

"Happy anniversary, angel."

He returned the bright smile. "Happy anniversary."

  
  


* * *

_"We should do something," said Crowley, raising his head from where he'd been sprawled out on his back on the carpet. "When was the last time you've been to the cinema? Let's go today. Get dinner after."_

_"I'm a little busy at the moment, dear. I don't know if you've noticed."_

_Aziraphale didn't look up from his book. His pencil was held in a tight grip of nails that had gone a shade paler, his lip caught between his teeth in deep concentration. Stubbornly, Crowley crawled over the space where a ton of textbooks spread out, placing a hand over Aziraphale's on the pencil._

_"Don't you want to relax for a bit? You've been studying really hard."_

_"Yes. Believe it or not, this is what it's like for all the rest of us," he snapped. "We can't all be inhaling entire chapters in two minutes like you. Some of us have to put in the work."_

_Crowley fell silent, retracting his hand._

_The blond looked up from his book, having realized what he'd just said. "No, Crowley. I'm sorry. That was rude."_

_"No, no. S'alright. I just thought you'd wanna do something for today, is all."_

_"Is there anything special about today?"_

_The redhead smiled sheepishly. "Nothing. I mean, I didn't expect you to remember it. But we’ve been together exactly six months, as of today."_

_Aziraphale furrowed his brows. "Oh? I'm not so sure about that."_

_"Don't expect you to recall it, I was just musing. And it's a bit funny. Never had a relationship that's lasted this long before."_

_"Dear." He held onto Crowley's elbow, searching his face. "I do recall it. I've been counting as well. We turned six months two weeks ago."_

_"What?" Crowley shook his head. "No. I'm sure it's today. We’re together six months today. Do you not remember, that night in the phone booth when I kissed you?"_

_"The phone booth? You mean you aren't counting from your confession?"_

_"Why would I be counting from my confession? That confession was a disaster, and you weren't even sure if you liked me back then." Aziraphale stayed silent, and for a while Crowley just sat and stared. Then, something big seemed to dawn on him, and his eyebrows shot halfway up to his hairline._

_"Hang on a minute. Does this mean that you've been counting the free trial period as part of our relationship?"_

_Aziraphale blinked slowly, a wildly treasonous blush spreading all over his face._

_"I never saw any reason not to!" Aziraphale pouted furiously as a teasing grin made its way on his boyfriend's mouth. "And yes, at the time I wasn't sure about how I felt towards you, but that was only because I was confused. Not because I didn't return your feelings."_

_Crowley turned impossibly soft. "So you really consider that-that time as, um, part of our actual dating?"_

_Aziraphale nodded, suddenly shy. "That time in the phone booth, I didn't consider that as the start of our relationship. I merely thought it an extension of something we were already doing." He averted Crowley's gaze and shifted in his seat. "Unless, of course, that's not okay. I'm not sure how people usually do these things. That is, I was only under the impression... but it's no matter. We can do it your way, if you—"_

_Crowley shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, wide row of teeth flashed by his grin when he pulled back to look at Aziraphale's startled blue eyes. "It's alright, angel." He took Aziraphale's hand, with pencil and all, and brushed the knuckles to his mouth. "I wouldn't want to celebrate our anniversary on Gabriel's birthday either."_

  
  


* * *

Crowley extended his arm for him to take, and off they went when, halfway down the hall they slowed down, Crowley's face scrunching up oddly.

"What's this I'm smelling?"

Aziraphale blanched. "It's my new cologne. My barber suggested it."

"Ah." Crowley relaxed, putting on an easygoing grin once again. "Aren't you gonna be cold?"

"I'm fine," replied Aziraphale, holding up his tan-coloured jacket - a recent purchase he'd made. "I have this, see?"

Crowley eyed the piece of clothing, nodding thoughtfully. "Tartan lining? Really?"

"Tartan is _stylish._ "

"If you say so."

Their destination was a fancy-looking sushi place that Aziraphale had mentioned he wanted to go to. It was thoughtful of Crowley to remember, and he ought to feel grateful for it. This was supposed to be a day of celebration. The first year was a milestone, especially for Crowley, who had never been in a relationship that lasted this long, and Aziraphale, who had never been in a relationship at all.

Instead, he was too distracted by the pull of several stares when they entered the restaurant.

It was reasonable enough to think that they might be staring at the green strands of hair on top of Crowley's head, but Aziraphale knew better. Over the past year, the staring was something he'd come to know quite well. 

Oddly enough, he'd never noticed it back when he and Crowley were just friends. Now, though, it was extremely difficult for him to ignore.

Because Crowley, even with his gorgeous red locks currently coated in the colour of snot, still looked dashing enough to be a natural _staring magnet._

* * *

_Raucous laughter rang through the pool gym when Aziraphale entered past the doors. He and Crowley had agreed to meet up and head to dinner together. And gleefully, he bounded past the bleachers and onto the poolside._

_The members of the swim team were huddled up on one corner, their voices loud and merry. He spotted Crowley right away, and his heels dug into the tiled floor when he saw him, breath caught in his throat._

_Green, plopped over his copper red hair. The colour of a dehydrated forest, enveloping his entire head. Crowley had on his usual charming smile, unbothered by it all._

_"Good to see not even you can pull off this disgusting colour," said one of the girls on the team. And Aziraphale could do little more than watch as she bit her lip, went up on her toes and boldly ran her fingers through Crowley's scalp._

_Crowley's shoulders shook with amusement. He even threw back his head to laugh some more. "Oh you'll pay for that."_

_When Aziraphale finally took a step forward, further into the room, his head snapped to meet his gaze. "Angel."_

_Everyone turned to look at him instantly, eyes all over. He gave them all a small wave. "Um, hello."_

_Crowley made a beeline to him, grin plastered to his face. "I'll be out in a bit. Just gonna get dressed."_

_"What happened here?" Aziraphale asked, gesturing towards his head._

_Crowley seemed to be in a really good mood, the laughs festering out of him without much prompting. "Ah, it's tradition. For anyone in their last competition. Like a good luck charm and a send-off at the same time."_

_Right. This was Crowley's final competition with the university swim team. His last chance to dazzle everyone with his impeccable strokes and form. After this, they'll be preparing for graduation. It was insane how fast it had all happened. How soon it would all come to an end._

_"Please tell me it will wash off."_

_Crowley snorted. "Of course, angel. In a couple of days."_

  
  


* * *

"They called out my name instead of Eric's, and you know dumb old me. I hear my name and I step right up. It wasn't even my race! You should've seen Coach Beez's face when they had to haul me back to the bleachers before I could get us both disqualified."

As Crowley recounted the events of his final competition (where he'd gone all out and made sure to leave an indelible mark), Aziraphale quietly munched into a piece of maguro, his teeth clamping down as though it was butter. The sushi was divine. He was here with _Crowley,_ celebrating their _anniversary._ He every reason to be feeling happy.

But they'd been in this restaurant for an hour now and people were still staring.

"Angel, are you alright? You've been really quiet since we got here."

"Quite fine."

Truth be told, Aziraphale was _not_ fine. It was infuriating. He was dining on good food and was in the company of the person he loved the most, but the night seemed to drag on. The longer he had to endure the staring the more it only got on his nerves, desensitizing him to all the other things he should've been focusing on.

It was ridiculous, because the staring wasn't new, per se. He knew exactly what he'd signed up for when he agreed to date Crowley, and it had never bothered him before. There had been a few times that the more persistent admirers had upset him, but Crowley had always been quick to reassure. Crowley, who had been the kindest and most understanding friend to him. Crowley, who had waited patiently for him as he sorted out his own feelings, never once teased about or took advantage of his inexperience. Crowley who, according to his own words, had been enchanted by him long before Aziraphale even knew who he was.

It didn't matter if all the rest of the world was fixed on Crowley. Not when Crowley had only ever had eyes for _him._

So why, then, was he so bothered by this _now?_

 _Do not be obtuse,_ he thought to himself. _You know exactly why._

Crowley had grown a little distant. It was most evident whenever they were alone, usually in Crowley's place. Aziraphale did so love kissing him and, given the opportunity, they would go at it for hours. A year into the relationship and that still hadn't changed, Crowley's kisses were still as mind-numbingly sweet and intoxicating as they had been the first time.

But recently, he'd been pulling back, just as their intimacies approached their greatest intensity - that sweet spot wherein all of Aziraphale's stresses and worries began to fade from his mind and his focus went entirely on Crowley's mouth, his hands, the feel of his lithe, nicely toned form against his own. His erection would stir against Aziraphale's thigh, and the latter would nudge his knee in between Crowley's legs to offer it reprieve, knead gently into that straining bulge (he was past the point of shying away from coming in his pants now) - then, Crowley would pull away, grin casually, a readily prepared excuse falling from his lips - lips that were, criminally, _not_ kissing him anymore. _"It's getting a bit late,"_ or _"I've some beer in the fridge. Care to indulge?"_ And once, much to Aziraphale's utterly confused frustration: _"You won't believe the weirdest shit I saw on Reddit last night."_

This may be Aziraphale's first ever relationship, and while sexual attraction did not come foremost in his repertoire of expertise, he was in no way a prude. He knew enough about Crowley's escapades before he'd met Aziraphale, how easily he'd gotten sex when he wanted it - which was often enough - and how he'd gotten it from _so many willing partners._

And again, that was all fine. But given this recent change in his behavior, one couldn't help but wonder. Crowley obviously got a lot of joy out of sex, but along with choosing to have Aziraphale in his life also came the decision to change that part of his lifestyle. And while Aziraphale did promise him that he would get there eventually, that day still hadn't come, and, a year on, he had to wonder if Crowley had simply grown tired of waiting.

It was these same thoughts that weighed heavily on his mind even as Crowley walked him back to his apartment. It had been a pleasant evening, though his heart was in deep turmoil. Crowley had been so kind to his off-mood the entire night, and yet here he was, suffering from a heartache while he imagined Crowley indulging a nonexistent lover who was not him. 

"Come inside for a bit?" Aziraphale asked just as he unlocked the door. 

Crowley was surprised by the invitation. Usually, their late night dinners would end here, and he would drop off Aziraphale and go home by himself. "Yeah, of course." 

They were greeted by complete silence, Newt having gone to Anathema's for the time being. It was clear that they had the place to themselves, and he inhaled deeply for courage. 

"I was thinking if you'd wanna come with me tomorrow to buy trainers," Crowley said casually, nudging his boot-covered foot into the air. "Think I could pick up running, now that I won't be doing much swimming any— _mpf!"_

His words drowned in the heat of Aziraphale's open mouth, planted firmly against his own. 

Crowley whined, hands flailing about his sides, not quite knowing what to do about them. But Aziraphale only grabbed the back of his head, carding his fingers through that tropical nest that was currently his hair, and moaned deeply into his mouth, moving with renewed insistence. 

With a firm grasp on his forearms, Aziraphale pulled him deeper into the room, their tangled feet bumping inelegantly against the coffee table. Even so, neither of them dared to break off the kiss. His pulse raced in every limb of his body, a frustrated groan escaping him. He grabbed Crowley's hands and set them firmly on his hips.

By instinct, Crowley held with a possessive grip, and Aziraphale sighed into the kiss, pressing every inch of his body against his. He toyed with the hem of Crowley's shirt, playfully hooking his fingers under the fabric. 

Their lips parted with a loud smack. "Angel?"

His hands trailed an unbending path up Crowley's stomach, then to the planes of his chest, rucking up his fitted shirt. His partner inhaled sharply through his nose. This wasn't exactly something they'd done before, and it seemed like something they should've talked about. Crowley's mouth was losing pressure on his own, words threatening to spill, but Aziraphale only captured his lips into another needy kiss, wanting to feel more of him.

Crowley's hands left his hips. They returned with a firmer grip on his arms. Confused, Aziraphale continued to kiss him, slipping out his tongue and licking across the seam of Crowley's lips, right up until he felt those hands pushing him _back._

"Aziraphale. Stop."

He stumbled back, held at arm's length by the grip that Crowley had on him. His grave expression had him flooding with shame.

Crowley had never told him to stop before.

Aziraphale couldn't keep the hurt out of his tone. "Why?"

"Angel, you don't seem like yourself right now. Is something bothering you? Cause you've been a little off all night."

"I said I'm fine." Aziraphale was aware that he was being stubborn - not one of his best traits, he knew, but also the hardest habit of his to break. "Do you not want to progress this relationship?"

A furrow appeared in the space between Crowley's brows.

Aziraphale held back a whimper, biting furiously the words he wanted to speak.

Why would someone like Crowley want to do any of this with _him?_

"I don't think it's a good idea to do that right now."

The words fell out of Aziraphale's lips before he could think them over, fueled entirely by the mangled pool of emotions he'd been battling all night. "Because you are already getting it from someone else, I presume."

The shock on Crowley's face crumbled down, giving way to furious, narrowed eyes, and a devilish sneer Aziraphale had never before seen directed at himself _._

Crowley had closed off. There was no hint of his usual tenderness, the kindness he'd always extended towards Aziraphale, the infinite well of patience and understanding that had been a comfort to him.

Aziraphale did not recognize him.

"Right," he said, smiling tightly and straightening his shirt. "Should've known that's what you really think of me." He was already moving towards the door.

"Crowley, I didn't mean it. I'm - "

"I'll just get out of your sight." He plucked the door open and gave a mocking wink that sent a chill through him. "As you said, I've plenty of other people to _fuck,_ Aziraphale."

And with those parting words, he was gone.

  
  


* * *

It took Aziraphale three days to muster up the courage to walk up to Crowley's doorstep.

He knew it shouldn't have taken him that long, but he dithered for a long while because he had no idea what he should say. What apologies would make up for it all.

They had never had a fight before. They had plenty of petty disagreements, but nothing ever this serious. Crowley had always been there whenever he was confused about anything - from math problems to pursuing a proper romance - he’d been there to carefully and patiently explain things to him, wait for him to catch up, make sure he understood everything before moving on to the next step. Aziraphale should have known better than to accuse him. It was unpardonable, and his chest ached to think that Crowley had every right to find it so as well.

He had no right to demand forgiveness, but an apology was all that Crowley deserved.

So when he rang the buzzer to Crowley's place, and heard shuffling footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, it was with a heart already half settled into the possibility that he might never be forgiven.

Which would mean that he had ruined the best thing to have ever happened to him. He would lose Crowley.

The very thought of it brought out a wretched sob from his throat. He swallowed hard, composing himself to a semblance of normality mere moments before the door opened in front of him.

Not a shred of emotion flitted on Crowley's face as he opened the door wider, wordlessly gesturing for Aziraphale to come in.

He shifted nervously in the middle of the living room, following Crowley with his gaze as the latter paced all the way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Aziraphale knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t actually looking for anything in there, and it was only meant to either distract himself from his own thoughts or to keep up the guise of nonchalance. More likely it was both.

"Didn't think you'd come all the way here," he said, surprisingly coming out with a can of soda in hand and shutting the door with his hip. "Why bother?"

"I came here to apologize, Crowley. What I said was wrong. I know you aren't like that."

"Are you sure, though?" He replied grimly, and with firm steps toward Aziraphale he nodded his head towards the closed door of his bedroom. "You've no idea where I went last night. Do you know how easy it is to hook up with someone at some seedy place out there? Some college party?"

Aziraphale swallowed. "I haven't the faintest idea, I’m afraid."

" _Easy_. I'm very good at it. You sure you wanna know what's inside that door right now? Or rather _who?"_

"There isn't anything or anyone in there." He had to believe it, even though his heart began to pound several times faster. He glanced nervously at the door. No—Crowley wouldn't. _He wouldn't._

His gaze landed back to Crowley, gaining determination.

_I would never doubt you again._

And something about that look must've gotten through, because that cold mask slipped off, and Aziraphale could almost see his best friend again.

Crowley dropped his eyes, fidgeting with the rim of his can. "Yeah, you're right."

Aziraphale's shoulders sagged with relief, a heavy weight unloaded from his chest. "I know you would never do that. I only said what I said because I was frightened, but it caused you great pain and you didn't deserve that."

"I appreciate it, I guess. Your apology."

Aziraphale shook his head. "The truth is that you were right. I was upset because... because I couldn't stand everyone staring at you while you were with me. While knowing that you are slowly losing your attraction to me, though I suppose it can't be helped."

"Hang on." A deep scowl appeared on Crowley's face as he stepped closer. "You're saying that all this is because you think I'm not attracted to you?"

"Is that not the truth?" Aziraphale grew self-conscious under his unrelenting stare, but he trudged on. This had been stewing up in him for far too long. He took a breath, hoping he didn't look demanding. He just wanted the smoke cleared between them. "It hasn't escaped my notice that recently, you've been pulling away from our more intimate activities." Crowley's eyes widened with a soft speck of guilt, but did not say anything. He took it as a sign to continue. "And while I don't believe you capable of outright cheating on me, it would not be unreasonable if the thought of indulging in those pleasures with someone else - someone who'll readily take you up on the offer - may have crossed your mind."

He gnawed on his bottom lip and fought the aching feeling in his chest. Crowley deserved to know the truth, even if it pained him. "I know, my dear, that I have kept you waiting for too long."

"Angel, no." Crowley dropped the facade, and that tender look was back in full force. Aziraphale wanted to melt into him. "Angel, angel, don't ever say that. I told you I'd wait as long as I have to. Until you're ready."

"But are you sure? What if one day you get sick of waiting?"

"That won't happen."

"And I can't bear it, Crowley!" He cried, hands curling into fists while he implored Crowley to understand, because Crowley always, _always_ understood.

"What is it, angel?"

"I know that it is selfish, but I cannot bear the thought of you not wanting me. I _want_ you to want me. I love the feeling of it. I love seeing _evidence_ of it, and it pains me whenever you hold back. I love that you think of me in that way. Want me in all those ways, and I despise that every day you're wanting me less and less because it is taking me far too long to decide when I'll be ready!"

"You think I hold back because I don't want you anymore?" Crowley's voice grew louder, and his words launched off along with his thoughts. "Do you think I've never recalled those cute sighs you make when I kiss you the way you like? Those sinful moans when you bite into those crepes from that shop down the street? That those sounds don't fucking haunt me in all my dreams?"

His breathing hitched up in his throat, reduced him very close to mumbling. "They do?"

Crowley scoffed. "See? You're so clueless! You don't even know what you do to me. How many times I wanted to peel off your clothes and bend you over a restaurant table. Or the times I took myself in hand, thinking of your strong hands and your _arse."_ He raked his gaze all over Aziraphale, head to toe, in a way that made him feel so exposed - or as exposed as one could be while fully clothed and not even being touched. 

Crowley let out a derisive laugh, like there was a joke running somewhere in his mind and he shared it, though no one else would understand. 

"I think about your cock a lot, too. I feel it sometimes, pressed against my leg and see it through the outline of your clothes and I know you have a glorious cock and I lie awake at night wanting to choke on it."

A shiver ran through him, a blush forming high on his cheeks as he was reduced to stammering. "M-my dear, I - "

"But yes, when I'm with you, I do hold myself back. Gotten really good at it, actually, and you wanna know why? It's because I fucking love you, Aziraphale. I love you _way_ more than I want to fuck you, and the last thing I want is to scare you off with how much I want you in _all_ the possible ways a person can desire another." Crowley clenched a fist against his thigh, his jaw tight. "That is _nothing_ compared to how scared I am of losing you."

A tense silence followed Crowley's outburst. When Aziraphale chanced a look, he was taken aback by the sheer vulnerability that he saw.

Of course. Crowley had been brave, like he always had been. It was Aziraphale who needed to learn to match his courage. His honesty. Time and time again he had stripped himself bare in front of Aziraphale. Maybe not in the literal sense, but figuratively, Aziraphale had seen all of him. _Crowley_ had allowed him to see all that. And though he would try to seem casual and detached - no matter how many people he’d slept with in the past - it was _only_ Aziraphale that he allowed the privilege of seeing him in his entirety.

Aziraphale closed the distance between them, stopping short an inch away when Crowley recoiled just a little.

"Did you mean it? All of it?"

Slowly, Crowley nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He pressed a palm to Crowley's cheek and watched those brown eyes fill with awe. Aziraphale smiled - a smile which matched all the happiness and relief that he felt. "I love you. With all my heart."

Crowley leaned into his hand and released a long breath, his shoulders sagging. "I love you, too."

"You won't ever lose me." He kissed him deeply. Once. Twice. A third time. Crowley leaned into him, closing his eyes and following his lead in silent surrender. He pulled back with one last peck and sighed. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I love you _so_ much."

How strange it was to be so uncertain one moment, and entirely decided the next. Aziraphale knew that as he held Crowley in his arms, he also held the entire world.

Slowly, Crowley brought his arms around him, crushed him to his chest. Aziraphale melted readily into the embrace, cheek pressed to his shoulder and breathing softly into his neck. They held onto each other, swaying lightly on their feet, everything glowing in light of being unburdened, everything now forgiven.

"Angel," Crowley whispered, lips pressed into his hair. "Did we just have our first fight?"

"I believe so." He kissed the side of Crowley's neck, relishing in the pleased sound that it elicited. He trailed more kisses up to his jaw, to his chin, before finally settling on his mouth and nipping at his lower lip. Crowley's eyes flew open, and as his insides calmed down to a soothing simmer, it was to this loving gaze that he uttered his next words.

"I want you to make love to me."

Crowley drew back, eyes wide. "You have to be sure."

"I am sure. Nervous, yes, but you have always been there to guide me." He smiled into Crowley's mouth. "There's no one in the world I trust more than you. Please, dearest."

Crowley went several deeper shades of red, and he ran a hand through his sickening green hair, nodding eagerly. "Y-yeah, of course. No big deal. It's whatever."

Aziraphale placed another kiss to his cheek. He hugged Crowley tight, running his palms up and down his back as he swayed them some more. "Perhaps not today, though. It appears you need some time to process it."

Crowley shook his head slowly, mouth slightly ajar, stuck in a timeloop and still unable to process the more recently uttered words.

"Crowley, dearest, are you all right?"

"Yeah, honestly my brain right now is just... not inside my head. Not exactly a partner you'd want in bed. Not if you want it to be good, at least."

This got a laugh out of Aziraphale, who now hugged him full force around the stomach, clinging tightly. "Of course, my darling. Whenever you're ready." He smirked.

Crowley laughed at the echo of his own words, kissing the top of his head. "I'll just buy you lunch for now. That's something even a brainless nut can do. Come on, I'll take you anywhere you want."

  
  


*

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I had actually written this out a long time ago, before I worked on Rigors of Flight and even the other fic i posted for christmas Paper Thin Walls but I battled with it for so long because I kept worrying that it wasn't "ace enough" to be an asexuality fic. Today I got into some discourse on aspec rep in fanfiction and this fic that I had buried suddenly came to mind again so I decided to just post it for my peace of mind.
> 
> The next installment for this series might be the last one, and it's about their first time. I thank everyone who has been following their journey with me ❤️


End file.
